In A Lifetime
by Ralinde
Summary: A collection of (unrelated) oneshots about the members of the first Order of the Phoenix. The collection title and chapter titles are based on Clannad's album 'In A Lifetime' (though they're not songfics). 1. Lily and Alastor discuss recent events in the Order. 2. The First Wizarding War wasn't the first war Benjy took part in.
1. Northern Skyline

_A/N: This is a new project for the 'Album Challenge' on the HPFC. I will be writing a collection of stories based on the Clannad album 'In A Lifetime'. Each story will have the title of one of the songs on the album. If you're not familiar with Clannad's work, go listen, it's amazing!_

_I've decided to write my stories about the various members of the first Order of the Phoenix. This first chapter, Northern Skyline, is also for the Snakes&Ladders challenge, where my given character was Lily Evans/Potter._

_Disclaimer for the entire collection: Anything HP related belongs to JKR, the album and song titles of course belong to Clannad. The only things that are mine are the plots. _

* * *

Lily stared in the distance. James was out with his friends again, roaming the forests to keep Remus in control. She didn't want to be jealous, she really didn't. But it stung that they could still have fun while everything inside her was numb.

It was a cloudless, bright night, but she didn't see the beauty of the darkness, didn't register the many stars. The sky was painted with one of the clearest Aurora Boreales Northumberland had seen in years, but she chose to ignore the green curtains on the horizon. They reminded her too much of the _other_ flashes of green. Sometimes, she doubted her decision to join the Order, and tonight was one of such nights. _She'd watched it happen right before her eyes_. She absentmindedly rubbed the arm that had been grazed by enemy fire. It didn't hurt, not really. Not as much as the hole in her heart anyway.

A hand on her shoulder startled her out of her thoughts and she made a little jump.

"Constant vigilance, Evans," Alastor chided. "How can you hope to defeat You-Know-Who when you don't even watch your back?"

Lily didn't reply. She'd grown accustomed to his constant reminders to be vigilant and his habit to call her by her maiden name.

"What were you doing out here anyway? Admiring the view?"

She shook her head. "It's too green."

He raised an eyebrow and then he nodded. "I see."

He went to stand beside her, and for a while they just stood there, leaning on the banister of the balcony, neither of them saying a word. When she first joined the Order, Lily had been scared by Alastor's stern appearance, but once you looked past that, he was actually quite good company to be around; as Auror, he had seen and done many things and every now and then he told her and the others about it. He also knew when not to speak, and she was grateful that he remained silent.

"Do you ever hesitate, Alastor?" she asked after a while. "Do you ever wonder what we're doing it for? All of this?"

"No."

"Not once?"

"We're fighting Dark Magic. We're trying to rid the world of You-Know-Who before he takes over and kills us all. Surely that's reason enough?

"I know." Lily sighed. "But I can't shake the thought that it _isn't_. It feels like they're always one step ahead of us. Like we're running to keep up but not quite managing."

"This is about Marlene," Alastor stated.

He didn't need to ask, and she didn't need to answer. He knew what haunted her sleep, and she knew that he knew. The way he had understood why she didn't like the Aurora Borealis confirmed that.

Up on the balcony, with no one around but Alastor Moody, she finally spoke out the thought that had been plaguing her since that fatal night. "They knew we were going to be there."

He didn't reply, but she read the response in his eyes – or eye really, for his other eye was still covered in bandages after his run-in with Rosier.

"So you're thinking the same thing?"

"Yes," he said grimly. "I think we have a leak."

Hearing it confirmed by Alastor somehow made it more real, like when the shimmer you see on the horizon suddenly turns into an angry, fire-breathing Hungarian Horntail heading your way.

"Who could it be? I've been going over and over it in my mind but every name seems more absurd than the other."

"Why confide in me? For all you know, I could be the leak."

"I don't think it's you."

"You can never know for sure," he scolded. You really oughtn't trust anyone, Evans. No exceptions."

"What about James? Alice?"

"No one."

"Come on, Alastor, I know James. He would never do anything to harm us. And Alice? Have you seen how devastated she it? She would never cause her sister to die like this."

"Not on purpose, no. But we mustn't rule out the possibility that our leak isn't operating on his or her own account. If they've managed to put one of us under the Imperius…"

Lily shivered at his words. She didn't know which of the two options scared her more: someone knowingly betraying them, or someone acting under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Either way, it meant no one in the Order could trust any of the others, and how could they function as a group if they couldn't even rely on each other to have their back?

"What about Dumbledore?" she questioned. It had been a while since she left Hogwarts, but she still couldn't bring herself to call him Albus, like he insisted she did. "Surely we can trust _him_?"

Alastor was silent for a moment.

"I think that if you want to place your trust in anyone, he'd be your safest bet," he eventually said. "Godric knows You-Know-Who has tried to talk many of our side into joining him and if Albus were to be the leak, he'd have made us all desert our ranks a long time ago. "

"That's what I thought. Nonetheless, that doesn't bring us closer to a solution. There is still someone among us who could betray us any moment, and that thought is really giving me the creeps."

"That's why you should always be prepared and always…" Alastor began.

"…be vigilant, I know. You keep telling us that, Alastor, and you're right of course, but what good will it do us in the end? Marlene was always very careful, and look what happened to her."

"We're in the middle of a war, Evans, they want us dead as badly as we want them dead, probably even more. They're in it for the kill; one millisecond of distraction could cost you your life. However, that doesn't mean you have to go down without giving them a run for their money first."

"Oh, I'll give them a run for their money alright," Lily said grimly, "But I have no intention of going down _at all_."

Alastor grinned approvingly. "That's the spirit," he said. "They'll know the Order can't be messed around with. And we'll get that traitor, mark my words."

Lily nodded. She hoped Alastor was right. In the morning, she'd talk to Dumbledore about her suspicions.


	2. The Wild Cry

_A/N: Since I think it highly unlikely that the Order would consist of a majority of people in their twenties (aka the Marauders and all their friends) , I like to think of Benjy as being closer to Dumbledore in age (at the beginning of the story, he's in his early twenties)._

_Warning: war imaging ahead. _

* * *

_The wild cry out._

_Their cries are found in me._

* * *

_21 June, 1922_

"In ye go, lad."

With a thud Benjy landed on something solid. He vaguely registered pain but mostly his brain was foggy. Behind him a key was turned and he realised they locked him in. He tried to get up but fell, his legs felt like they couldn't support him.

"Hey! Le' us out!"

"Not gonna happen. That's the fourth time this month, lad, yer gonna stay here for a while."

"A dinnee do nothin'!"

"Tell that to old Mrs Jenkins whose money you took. Tell it to young Pete O'Reilly, whose youth you stole."

Those names didn't mean anything to him. They were just a sequence of syllables.

"Who are they?" he asked but he was talking to the air for the turnkey had already left.

Benjy cursed loudly.

He didn't sleep that night. There were shadows on the wall, waiting until he fell asleep so they could tear him apart. His heart was racing in his chest. He couldn't fall asleep, he just couldn't, they'd take him. Sweat trickled down his back as he stared intently at the wall. The shadows changed form while he watched and became images. He got a spasm in his leg and his eyelid twitched. He recognised those images. After all, he had spent the bigger part of the past years attempting to push these images from his mind.

"Gimme some," he begged the turnkeys, but they only smirked at his pleas. _Anything to prevent the images._

"Got yourself into trouble, gotta get yourself out of it again."

He heard them murmuring against one another as they walked away. "Thinks we're handing out free stuff. They're getting worse these days, you know?"

The images connected and in the course of a couple of hours, a movie unravelled before his very eyes, but not one he wanted to be confronted with.

-/-/-/-/-/-

"_On your left!" _

_He quickly turned, and threw his dagger at the German officer heading his way, his rifle aimed directly at him. He sent the dagger away with a Parma-spell and the dagger hit its target well enough, for the German officer's eyes grew big and blood started to seep from the wound in his abdomen. He fell to the ground, clutching his stomach and attempting to remove the dagger. His rifle lay forgotten. He approached the man with caution. _

"_Verschwinden Sie sich!" the German officer exclaimed, but he knelt down beside him. "Think ye can kill us wi' that rifle o' yours, can ye?" he said so softly that only the German could hear him. "Divvent think so." _

_He picked up the rifle where the German had dropped it and casually pointed it at the man's heart. Panic rose in the man's eyes and Benjy hesitated but a split second whether he'd use magic or not before pulling the trigger. The German spat apart and Benjy fell back from the heavy backfire of the rifle. He was covered in blood, but that wasn't new to him. _

_Ever since they'd started fighting four days prior, there had been blood, of both friend and foe. The Fourth Army was extremely badly organised and their losses so far had been great. He had heard rumours of casualties running in the tens of thousands, which quite frankly scared the hell out of him. He'd had a year and a half of training, but he felt very ill-prepared when they arrived at the Somme area. There were less French Divisions than they had anticipated thus the attack largely rested upon British shoulders. The large number of casualties had caused swift promotions of soldiers not ready yet to lead a Division. True, they hadn't lost as many soldiers as on the first day, but he'd seen many of his comrades fall and not getting back up again. _

(Not even magic could bring back the dead.)

_Killing off the German officer gave him a strange sense of satisfaction, as if taking this one life could make up for all the lives lost in his Division. _

_He got back on his feet and inspected the rifle. He didn't know much about rifles, but it appeared a fine one on first sight. It had two sling swivels, open front sight and a tangent-like rear sight. It was a rather heavy, but he just needed to get used to that, for he had a feeling it wouldn't take long before he'd need to fire it again. He searched the German's uniform for ammunition and stacked it in his own pockets. _

_Only now did his senses return to him. I just killed a man, in cold blood, he thought. _

_He remembered what old Professor Galwin had always drilled into them at Defense Against The Dark Arts: Don't loose your head in a fight, and don't loose your opponent's either, unless there is absolutely no other way._

_He glanced back at the officer and noticed what he had so far ignored. The man was very young, barely older than he was. Perhaps he had had the same fears as him and perhaps he too had seen comrades fall. _

_The sight of intestines spilling out the officer's body made his stomach turn. He retched._

-/-/-/-/-/-

An acid-like stench reached his nostrils and it took him only a few seconds to realise that he'd thrown up in the here and now as well. He started shaking uncontrollably.

He really, really needed some, right now.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing! You're gonna clean that up yourself, you know!"

The turnkey had reappeared and was scowling at him. "You're a disgusting piece of shit."

Something snapped inside Benjy and he launched himself at the turnkey.

* * *

"Careful now."

Benjy opened his eyes. He was in an unknown environment and a man with a moustache was looking at him.

"Where am I?"

The man didn't reply.

Benjy felt anger boil up inside of him. "Where am I?" he repeated.

"You're at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."

He stared at the man. Surely he misheard that. But when he took in his surroundings, they did indeed seem hospital-like to him. "Why?"

The man with the moustache cleared his throat and looked a bit nervous. "Well, it was quite nasty, really. We had to take precautions, naturally…"

"My goodness, Lancelot, just explain to the man why he's here," another voice interrupted.

An elderly man appeared in sight and extended his hand. Benjy eyed it suspiciously, as though it might come off and strangle him at any moment. The man didn't seem bothered by that and said: "Gregory Kentigern, Healer."

"That still doesn't explain why I'm here."

"You were involved in an explosion in a Muggle cell. An explosion caused by an outburst of magic. We had to wipe the memory of a turnkey and four other temporary residents. They now believe there was a construction error that made part of the building collapse. You were… not looking too well yourself, which is why we brought you here for examination."

"I'm fine, A jus' need some stuff an' I'll be fine," Benjy growled. He tried to control the twitching of his right hand, but failed.

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, gimme some laud'num an' I'll be off."

"I see," Healer Kentigern said. "Right, it's more serious than I thought. We'll going to have to keep you in observation for a while. The Gouldwell ward, I would think. Miss Kohlberg will take you there."

He was about to protest when a Mediwitch appeared. "You called for me?" she said to Healer Kentigern.

"This young man will be staying at the Gouldwell ward for a while, Miss Kohlberg."

"No, A ain',t" Benjy said, at about the same time she said "That's lovely."

Benjy glared. There wasn't anything 'lovely' about spending time in a hospital ward. "A ain't sick."

"Of course you aren't," she smiled. "But aren't you tired? You might need some rest."

Now that she mentioned it, he felt he really _was _tired.

"Maybe one night then," he said grudgingly.

"Right this way then."

He followed her out of the room they'd been sitting in and through the corridors. He looked at her a bit more closely. She appeared to be mid-thirty to early forty. Her brown hair was neatly done up and she had that resoluteness one often found in those in nursing jobs. In a way, she reminded him a little of Madame Fawley, the Hogwarts matron.

He followed her through heavy doors that opened onto a ward. There were eight beds, six of them occupied. She walked him to the far end, towards one of the empty beds.

"There we are," she said. "Now, just lie down and get yourself comfortable. You can draw the curtains if you like."

She left when he was underneath the blankets. He watched her walk away until the only sign of her presence was the echoing of her footsteps just outside on the corridor.

He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. His hand was still twitching and he was feeling nauseated. Better move as little as possible.

Even though he was dead tired, sleep didn't come. Again, images of past years started to fill his mind. He was transported back to the Somme once more, relived the fights, the killings, the bombings, all the people that had died, the sight of his friend Adam after half his face had been blown off when a grenade exploded…

He screamed. It was as if the screams of all those that could no longer scream themselves, came out in that single scream of his.

Hurried footsteps headed his way and the figure of Miss Kohlberg reappeared, looking worried. "Are you alright?"

She placed a hand on his sweaty forehead. "No, that's not good," she muttered. She made to leave, probably to get him some medicine, but he grabbed her hand.

"Stay," he said in a hoarse voice. "Please."

At first, it looked like she wanted to refuse. But maybe she saw something in his eyes when she looked at him, for she glanced around the ward "Everyone else seems sound asleep, so I guess I can spare some time."

Benjy was immensely relieved. If someone were sitting next to him, talking, maybe the images wouldn't reappear.

"What is it you see when you close your eyes?" she asked after a minute of silence. "It must be something terrible for you to scream like that."

He hesitated. How much could he tell her? She was a Mediwitch, what if she put him away in psychiatric ward? But there was something in her face, a kind concern, that made him decide that he could tell her.

"A few years ago, there was a war," he began.

"I know."

That surprised him. "Ye do? But ye're a witch."

"And you're a wizard," she retorted. "What's your point?"

He let out a shaky laugh. "Right. A should 'ave known. Kohlberg isn't exactly a wizarding name."

"My Dad is a Muggle, if that's what you're asking. But I'm sure you didn't want me to stay to talk about my ancestry?"

He shook his head. "It's difficult…"

She didn't reply, but just looked at him, expectantly.

Eventually, he found the words to continue. "If ye know about the war, then ye must also know of its atrocities; of the horrible deeds that were done._"_

She nodded solemnly.

"A did some pretty horrific deeds meself as well," he heard himself say.

"Is that what's hunting you?"

"Amongst other things. But A need the laud'num. Ter keep it away, ye know?"

"I cannot give you laudanum, you know that." She made to get up.

He was suddenly suspicious. _Was she going to call in a Healer and put him away? _"A ain't crazy."

"I know. But Iaudanum won't make the images go away."

"It has so far."

"I can however give you a sleeping potion, so you can get at least some sleep. You must be exhausted."

A sleeping draught didn't sound so bad, - maybe the effects would even be comparable to laudanum - but still Benjy was suspicious. "What'll happen if A take it?"

"After about half an hour or so, you'll fall asleep."

"And then? How do A know ye're not trickin' us into something'?"

"You'll just have to take my word on it. I'm sorry. But we can talk some more tomorrow?"

He didn't exactly know why, but in the end, he agreed on the sleeping potion.

* * *

She kept her word and came back the next evening. And the evening after that.

In fact, he'd been here for three weeks now and whenever she was on duty, she would always stop by and talk with him for a while. Not long, half an hour was the utmost time she could spare between her duties, but he found himself looking forward to her visits.

He was still on sleep medication and it gave him the nightmare-less sleep the laudanum had given him, but without the constant craving during the day. His brain seemed less foggy.

But it were her visits that helped him most. They talked about the war and about the things that gave him nightmares. Somehow, he just found it really easy to tell her the things he hadn't told anyone so far. Sometimes, they talked about her brother, who had died in the war. But talking about him made her sad, and he didn't like to see her sad.

He was allowed to call her Meryam when no one was around and she'd call him Benjamin, a name he hadn't used since he was ten years old. When she didn't carry her hair in the strict bun, he could tell that she was younger than he'd first estimated, thirty at the most.

"I hope you don't think me rude…" she said one day.

_How could I ever think you're rude? You're one of the kindest persons I've ever met_.

"…but how old were you when you joined the army? You seem a bit young to have done mandatory service…"

"I volunteered," he replied softly. "I was fifteen when I joined."

"That's really young. And you're parents were okay with that?"

"No, they weren't."

She waited for him to continue.

"They kept us at home from Hogwarts to work at the family business. A never wanted that, but me father divvent care. A was the eldest son, so he felt it was me duty to follow in 'is lead." He was silent for a moment.

"A had always been the odd one in the family and when Griffiths showed up on me eleventh birthday, tellin us A was a wizard… A was happy. It were a way to get out, ye see? A think Father realised that too, he refused ter let us gan. Somehow, Griffiths persuaded 'im and A could gan. But after fourth year, Father kept us at home. Said he'd had ''nough o' the nonsense' and that it was time for us ter start workin'. A protested, of course, but 'e snapped me wand and that was that."

Meryam looked shocked. "He didn't!" she said.

"He did," Benjy confirmed. "A was beyond meself. When a friend told us a couple o' months later that he'd be joining the forces, A thought it was the perfect opportunity. It'd get us out o' the house, and surely fightin' for England would be somethin' me Father wouldn't object ter, but would be proud of."

"And did it make him proud?"

Benjy's thoughts went to that day in December '14, when he'd told his parents he wanted to join.

-/-/-/-/-/-

"_Charlie says they're recruitin' at Rothbury's."_

_Feigned silence, just like he had expected. _

"_I'm thinkin' o' joinin' myself."_

_This time, they could not deny having heard him. Mother nearly choked on her biscuit and Father lowered his briskly ironed _Chronicle_. _

"_Are ye insane? What about the business?"_

"_Alfie can do that. He's a better salesman than us." _I never liked that job anyway, and Alfie's a Muggle, just like you. Plus, he seems to enjoy working at the store_._

"_It's not just about being a salesman. Think your Uncle and us got to Bond Street for just _salesmanship_?"_

"_A want ter fight and protect wor country."_

"_The war ain't gonna reach the Tyne, boy, what're ye thinkin'? Divvent be ridiculous."_

"_What about the rest o' England? Us thought ye'd be proud."_

_Father eyed him suspiciously. "It's that school o' yours, ain't it? Fillin' ye head wi' weird ideas… Us never should've let ye gan there."_

"_Hogwarts's got nothin' tee dee wi' it!" Benjy replied angry. "An' how can fightin' for me country be a weird idea?"_

_He got up and pushed his chair back. "A gan fight," he said with determination. _

_Father pushed back his chair as well. _

"_You'd better stay in Toon." His tone was threatening. _

"_Ye gan smack us?" He laughed. "That cannet stop us."_

_He snatched his coat of the coat rack and stormed out, into the cold December evening. He could just make out Father's cries of "Get back here or us swear ye divvent have tee come back at all!" and Mother's sobbed "Benjy, come back, please!"_

-/-/-/-/-/-

"Benjamin?"

He looked up and realised that Meryam was looking at him in concern.

"A'm sorry, what was the question again?" he said.

"Was your Dad proud of you when you joined the forces?" she repeated hesitantly, as if she were dreading the answer.

"No, he wasn't. He still wanted me to stay in the family business. He said it was because o' Hogwarts that A had these 'strange ideas'." Benjy let out a bitter laugh. "So A did the only thing A _could _do: A left. A wandered the streets o' Newcastle the entire night, and the first thing A did in the mornin' was sign up at Rothbury's."

Meryam was silent again. She placed a hand on his arm and gave him a gentle squeeze. It was comforting, in a way. She didn't judge, but just listened, and he liked that about her.

"Did you ever go back?"

"Aye. But A wish A hadn't."

This puzzled her, he could tell. But as easy as it had been to talk to her about the horrors of war, he didn't know if he could bring himself to tell her what had happened when he returned home.

_-/-/-/-/-/-_

_Benjy stood hesitantly outside his parent's house, his kit bag loosely swung over his shoulder. The war had ended and he had returned from France, not really knowing where to go. The words Father had hurdled after him when he left rang in his ears. He suddenly felt insecure. _What if Father didn't want to see him?_ Four years was a long time after all. He had just made up his mind and made to leave – even sleeping on the streets would be better than be thrown out of his parents' house a second time – when Alfie looked up from the table, straight in his eyes. Disbelief was visible on his face and then he broke into a broad smile. He rushed to the door and threw it open. "Benjy? Is that really you?"_

_He didn't really know how to reply when his brother hugged him. "Come in!"_

_Hesitant and with unease he followed his brother back inside. _

"_Who's there, Alfie?" _

_Mother._

_He stepped into the dining room and Mother's eyes grew big. "Benjy? It cannet be…"_

"_It's me," he said shyly and next thing he knew he was being hugged and showered with wet kisses. "Us thought ye'd be dead," she sobbed. He didn't know what to do so all he did was hold her tight. She smelled familiar, a mixture of soda and green soap that he hadn't realised he'd missed until now. _

"_Where's Father?" he asked, when after a couple of minutes there was still no sign of him. _

_Mother and Alfie shared a look and he his stomach turned. _

"_He's gravely ill," Mother eventually replied. There were still tear streaks on her face. "Alfie, can you…?"_

"_Of course."_

_He followed his brother to the back of the house, dreading what he'd find when he'd enter Father's room. Father lay in bed, as pale as the sheets. There were specks of blood on the pillow and his eyes were ghastly. There was a sickening smell in the room: that of a dying man. He approached the bed cautiously. _

"_Father? It's us, Benjy…"_

_Father acknowledged him with a barely audible "Benjamin…"_

"_I'm here, Father." He took his father's hand in his; it felt cold. "Maybe A can help…" he began. _

_Father coughed up blood. "No. Nee magic," he managed. "A 've lau…laudanum."_

"_But…"_

"_Nee."_

_Benjy spoke no more and just sat there, holding his father's hand. _

_The next day, Father's face had gone from white to the colour of a heliotrope flower, which highly disturbed Benjy. Before lunchtime, Father had passed away. There was no doctor available to declare his death, but Benjy had seen plenty of dead people in the past years to know that Father was never going to wake up again. Mother cried, Alfie cried, but Benjy had no tears left to cry. Two years in France had staled him. So he was their rock. He went to his aunts and uncles to tell them of Father's passing and he went to the undertaker's all by himself to pick out a coffin. Mahogany, like the desk Father loved so much. _

_The day after that, Mother complained of shivers and twinges and they sent her to bed to rest. They blamed it on fatigue and the stress of the past months when Father had been ill. However, by midday, she was looking purple-like too and Benjy sat by her bedside. _

"_Mother, ye've got ter let us help ye," he insisted. "Or ye'll be dead in the ev'nin' like Father."_

"_What did yer Father say?" she asked weakly. _

"_Din't want to," he replied. "But he was gonna die anyway, 'e was too weak. But ye've got ter let us help ye, ye can heal if ye let us help ye."_

_Mother shook her head. "Nee, A put me faith in God, not in magic. If God wants me to join yer Father, A will." _

_Sure enough, she passed away the same evening, choking on purple-ish jelly that seemed to come from her lungs. _

_Alfie was inconsolable. "It's yer fault!" he yelled, late at night. "She was fine before ye came back an' now she's dead! Ye killed her! Ye killed 'em both!"_

"_Alfie, Father was sick long before A came back, an' Mother must've caught it from him," he tried to reason with his brother, but Alfie wouldn't listen to his arguments. _

"_Gan!" he shouted. "Gan far away an' divvent ye come back. Ye killed 'em!"_

_He tossed Benjy out on the street with remarkable strength for a man his size. His kit bag followed soon after and Benjy picked it up wordlessly._

-/-/-/-/-/-

"That was the last time A ever saw me brother," he concluded. "Four years of warfare, yet A lost more in the two days A was back at home."

"But their death was not your fault!" she exclaimed. "You could've helped them and they refused, so you can't blame yourself for that! Surely your brother understands that?"

"That's the thing, ye see? A read about it later. When we returned from the Somme, we brought home a disease from the trenches we'd be fighting in for two years, some influenza. Them trenches were filled wi' people, alive as well as dead. Bodies decayed inches from where we prepared our meals. We di'n't bother to bury them, or even burn them, because there was simply no time, nor 'nough manpower to do that. The enemy could be at ye any minute, and we stayed up day an' night. Food was scarce, so we ate what we could find. One o' the men in me division made a killin' rat stew. Divvent look at us like that, it wasn't the best thing A ever ate, but it filled ye stomach. Back then, it di'n't occur ter us that them rats had probably been nibbling at our dead comrades before we ate them."

Meryam had gone green in the face.

"A'm sorry, I di'n't mean ter upset you," he said hastily.

"I'm fine," she protested weakly.

"No, yer not, A can tell. A really am sorry." He put his hand on hers. "Please, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. It's just that, hearing these things, makes me wonder if Caleb…"

He could almost hit himself. Of course. Her brother had died in the war. Surely thinking about her brother undergoing the things he had was hard on her.

"A'm sorry," he said for the third time.

"It's not your fault," she said. "But I think we'd better finish this conversation another time."

She made to leave.

He reached out to her, alarmed. "Please don't go."

"I'm sorry, Benjamin. I don't know why this gets me like this, but it does, and I need some time to process that. Surely you understand that."

"I do," he said softly. _I just wish you'd let me comfort you_. "Promise me one thing."

"What is it?"

"Promise me ye'll come back. It wasn't all horror in these years. There's tales of friendship as well. A'll tell ye about that next time, if you want."

She let out a shaky laugh. "I'll return," she said in a hoarse voice. "I just need to continue my rounds now."

It was long after she left that he realised she'd forgotten to give him his sleep medicine.

* * *

_21 June, 1972_

"Are you sure you want to join, Benjy?"

"Why not? It woudn't be the first time."

"Meryam won't like it."

"Look, A can't just sit around and do nothin', can I? David is dead, and A want ter do somethin' to avenge him."

When he was upset, the accent of his youth came up, even though he hadn't spoken it in fifty years.

"Please. Let us avenge me son."

"Fine. But do me a favour, will you? Discuss it with Meryam first. I would not want her to lose her husband as well."

"Don't worry, Albus. I survived two wars, there's no reason to think I wouldn't live through another."

* * *

_A/N: All my 'knowledge' of Geordie and the Battle at The Somme comes off the internet, so if anyone with more knowledge about either subject spots an error, please point them out to me so I can fix it. _


End file.
